


Best Left Forgotten

by Veskasa



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Child Abuse, Child Death, Gen, More warnings to be applied as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-18 21:35:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4721288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veskasa/pseuds/Veskasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza told from the beginning to the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. G I V E  C A K E [Prologue]

Everyone knew the diner on the corner. It wasn’t large, but it was fun for kids and adults alike. Their golden mascots sang and danced with the playing children while parents stayed in an attached lounge where they could chat and drink. On special days, like birthdays, parents could rent one of the exclusive party rooms for their kids to have a more personal, joyful experience. At these parties the staff’s only goal was to make sure that every young guest felt loved and appreciated.  
  
Yet not every child received such special attention. It was the nature of the beast when you had half a dozen screaming eight year olds confined to one room, and only one beloved mascot to attend to them. It wasn’t rare that an upset boy or girl was spotted sitting off alone, but often the golden character would bring them an extra serving of cake and cheer to restore their good mood.  
  
One such lonely child, however, was so distraught by the party that he had slipped out an exit door. Miserable he stood there behind the building, crying as his friends inside continued to shriek for a giant bear’s attention, and eat their fill of sugary birthday treats. The room was so loud and the children were running about so frantically that the boy was not missed.  
  
So there he stood, sobbing alone into his hands and feeling utterly abandoned. There wasn’t much traffic behind the diner, foot or car, and neither his friends, nor parents, nor the mascot were wise to his suffering. His cries covered the sound of a car drifting over to the curb and parking parallel to him. The driver’s door had opened and a man uncurled himself from the front seat. When he stood at full height a shadow was cast over the child, causing the boy to look up and fall quiet.  
  
The two stared at each other, the boy sniffling and swallowing to recover himself as the corner’s of the man’s lips pulled down. His eyes were tired and his mouth was moving, but the child couldn’t hear what was said. The boy was still trying to wipe away his tears, and he hiccuped before trying to speak. “Wh-what did you say mister?”  
  
But the man kneeled down and hands reached out. The boy gasped as fingers closed around his throat, grasping at the other’s arms as the strong grip held him fast. “It’s better this way.” Whispered words from the man to his terrified victim. The struggling was minimal, weak even when it happened, but there were only a few pained noises before eyes were slipping closed and arms falling limp. With the strength put into the hold it was possible the poor boy’s neck was broken before the lack of air knocked him out.  
  
When the movement stopped the body was carefully laid on the pavement. The lifeless form was settled on its back, carefully positioned so it might have appeared to be sleeping. The angry marks already forming on the neck told another story, of course. "I'm sorry kiddo."  
  
Once the body was released the man stood up, and he glanced into the window to see the chaos that had driven the boy outside. What was supposed to be a quick look turned into a stunned stare. A giant, golden, cartoon bear with plastic blue eyes was standing in the party room, its attention fixated on the man on the sidewalk. The children were too preoccupied to notice the mascot’s diverted attention, though one did begin to scream for the cake the bear carried.  
  
The man outside stared at those eyes for what felt like hours, terror creeping up his spine and cementing his feet in place. Yet that spell was broken by sheer will in moments, and the man turned to climb back into his car and drive away.  
  
One might expect a man so spooked to drive away in a hurry, but this man drifted off as quietly as he had appeared. The head of the mascot turned to follow the vehicle’s path until it disappeared from the windows, its eyes ever vacant.  
  
But inside the suit there was a man who stood shocked at what he had witnessed. Though his vision was partially obstructed by the mesh cloaking his face he had seen the crime through the mouth of his costume. His disbelief was almost palpable.  
  
Such a crime could not have _possibly_ been planned, yet he’d seen it happen so smoothly, so _quickly_. Instead of going outside to check on the boy or even run for help when he recovered his senses the costumed man smiled. It was a secret, charmed, almost devious smile that he carried easily as he returned to the rest of the children. The slice of cake he finally handed to the screeching child before he turned and invited the rest to sing and dance with him.  
  
With the boy lost outside it was still his job to make sure the rest of these young souls were taken care of. After the body was discovered, after all, the fun at the diner would likely end for some time. Best he keep these kids happy while the world still allowed them such whimsies.


	2. IT'S ME [Chapter 1]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The owner of Fazbear's Diner finds a potential candidate to carry on his dream.

The poor diner on the corner had never recovered its reputation after the sudden death of a guest. As the years went by less and less people seemed to walk through its doors; loyal customers worried of what might lurk there, and the younger generation was tainted by hearsay. It was inevitable that the place would close down, not just to conserve money, but to salvage and preserve what was once a place of joy for children and adults alike.  
  
That’s what the owner had decided, at least. He stood before the entrance of his once thriving business, smiling fondly up at the mascot symbol over the door. It smiled right back, though its eyes were vacant and its open mouth no longer echoed the happy laughter of guests past. “Such a shame.” He sighed. “I will miss you old friend.” A hand pat at the wall beside the door before he headed inside. There were a handful of men moving boxes and chairs. The tables had all been cleared away from the separate party rooms long ago and all that was left were scattered decorations, some furniture, and then clean up. The building was already scheduled for its tear-down tomorrow so it was imperative he made sure he had everything moved.  
  
“Oh! Be careful with that.” The owner tucked his hand under a box, helping a struggling mover to hoist up his cargo. “Important parts in here young man. Get a good grip there now before you take it to the truck.” With that extra hand as a brace the worker was able to shift his own hold and lift the box up properly. Once he had the weight the owner stepped aside, allowing the other to continue on to the truck outside.  
  
“Why don’t we take a break! All of you now, don’t strain yourselves. Fifteen minutes, I left a cooler in the truck with water if you need it.”  
  
The handful of movers were ushered out with that cheerful announcement and content smile. The owner pat one’s shoulder on his way passed, stopping him a moment. “I’ll be out back if you need anything.” He explained softly. He received a nod of acknowledgement before they parted, and true to his word the large man headed for the back. Through one of the party rooms and out the glass door, he stepped into the sun and fresh air.  
  
Taking a deep breath the owner let it out as a disappointed sigh. Not even the pleasant day could chase away the memories of this place. They said the body had been on the sidewalk for a few hours, and though it wasn’t bloody the scene had been chilling. Such a young boy laid on his back, arms folded and looking so peaceful. If it weren’t for those violent marks on the kid’s neck he might have been mistaken as sleeping. But no, the life had been plucked so quickly from that small body before he was left to cool, unnoticed and forgotten.  
  
Normally people avoided the back of the diner more than anything; a scene of death, where people feared the lingering spirit of the young boy murdered. The owner only scoffed at such superstitions and a quick glance at the empty lot across the street reminded him that someone else who seemed to share his attitude. A young man, leaning against the hood of a well-used, purple sedan. He’d seen that car before, and it had started to appear more regularly in the last week.  
  
Stepping off the sidewalk to walk across the empty street, the owner made his intent clear by making eye-contact. The young man seemed to cower under his gaze, dropping a half-full carton of cigarettes he’d pulled from his back pocket when his nerves were riled. “Shit—”  
  
“Hello hello! Don’t look so scared, I didn’t come over here to chase you away.” The owner tried to reassure, but the skeptical look he got as the tall man kneeled to pluck up the dropped box said he wasn’t convincing enough. He pushed his glasses up. “I’ve seen you over here a few times and I thought I’d see if you were alright. I recognize you…”  
  
The young man stiffened, but he seemed unwilling to look away now. “Yeah?” In fact he rose to his full height to present a challenge with his stance. Tension built up as the owner’s smile took a soft edge.  
  
“Yes! You’re the boy from the news. Oh, sorry, I suppose you really are an adult in the eyes of the law.” All at once that tension dissolved and the taller man leaned against the car again. The box of cigarettes almost dropped again from his slack grip. “Uh…yeah, I guess I was on there.”  
  
“Mm. I offer my condolences, but really I cannot condone the sort of man your father was. I hope you are not here every day to mourn him?”  
  
There was no vocal answer at first. Instead the taller’s tired eyes searched the owner before his attention went back to the diner. “Nah. He was a…well, he’s gone now, and I’m better off. Everyone’s better off.”  
  
“So why are you here?” The owner prompted again.  
  
“Why do you ask?”  
  
“Oh! Well, my dear boy, because that building you’re stare at with so forlorn an expression is my own! I’m Mister Queen.” The opportunity to offer a handshake was not ignored. His hand was still given a critical and mistrusting glance before the loitering stranger accepted it. “Royal.” A pause. “ _Mister Royal_.”  
  
Queen tried not to laugh too loudly, squeezing the man’s hand as he clasped both of his over other’s. Compared to his own Royal’s fingers were boney, long, but he had a very strong grip. “Brilliant. I like you already. Would you like to come inside?”  
  
Royal seemed to recoil like he was hit at the suggestion. “Inside? No I couldn’t—”  
  
“Nonsense!” The owner interrupted. “Don’t you want to see it once from the inside? I’ve kept it very quiet, but the building is being knocked down tomorrow morning. Any memories you’re trying to relive will be dashed.”  
  
The taller wouldn’t look up now, his hand shaking as he put his carton of cigarettes away at last. “Nn—my dad never…I mean I’ve never been. He didn’t let m—I was never good. Enough.” His eyes darted back over to the building, to the sidewalk. “I’d—we’d drive by sometimes. Routine I guess, hard to break even with him gone.”  
  
Despite this man’s nerves Queen reached out to settle a hand against the younger’s arm. “I insist.” His smile was warm, but that comfort was expressed on his face only. Royal stopped shaking with the contact, staring at that smile. There was a moment where they shared a look again, Queen with understanding before his smile began to turn dangerous and the young man’s lips twitching as he tried to force a grin. “O-okay…I guess a look can’t hurt.”  
  
“Good man!” The touch disappeared and Queen turned to lead the way back across the street. Royal was more timid in his pursuit, casting a weary look back at his car before he stepped off the sidewalk.  
  
It was still empty of life, the movers outside on their break. “There isn’t much left, but it was magnificent back in the day. Bursting with activity and the joy of all of my patrons.” A stack of boxes were pressed against a far wall in the party room just inside the door. Queen moved to investigate them as his companion stood frozen at the center of the room. Wide eyes were searching, hands shoved into his pockets and shoulders hunched.  
  
“What will you do now? Or, what are you doing since this place was closed?” Royal ventured to ask.  
  
“I’ve got a new gig now. A new business.” The box Queen had opened wasn’t sealed, half full of folded art projects, some hats and bags of unused balloons…  
  
“What do you do there?” Royal seemed to be loosening up, his posture relaxing and his hands slowly coming out to grip at the hem of his thin jacket. Queen came over to him with something in his hands, that same warm smile settled into place as he offered the item he’d found. “Oh, I only manage now-a-days. I do miss being involved, seeing the children, singing, dancing.”  
  
Handed to the young man was a golden, stuffed bear. The eyes were embroidery, black, with a violet hat and bow-tie sewn into place to reflect the diner’s chief mascot. “My very best memories were when I was on the floor amongst the crowds. I saw so much.” Royal’s grip was tight on the toy as the owner pinched his fingers over its snout and squeezed. The toy squeaked. Queen was watching his companion carefully, noting how the sudden noise startled him. “I have an opening you know.”  
      
Royal swallowed thickly when he dragged his attention away from the toy. “At the new place? It’s uh…is it the same as this?”  
  
“Heavens no! As much as I wished to recreate this dream I could not afford it. It’s more of a corporate business now. You know how they like automation, conveyor belts, but the _idea_ is the same. We have more characters now, we can support more guests—the food as good as it used to be, and my investors were not as keen on the human aspect that my vision embodied. It’s so hard to find people who understand though, who can appreciate the personal touch it takes to keep those children’s dreams alive.” Something in his speech had affected Royal; the owner could see he had the other man’s full attention. “It is still a place of cheer, a place where we protect them from the drool and sometimes harsh life they may live. We’re that small break where they can be children again.”  
  
“…and you want…me?” Royal turned the plush in his hands, his own fingers squeezing the nose to make it squeak again.  
  
“I do. I’ve seen you, Royal.” A beat. A breath. Royal didn’t blink and Queen gave him a knowing look. He knew. _He knew_ and that smile grew wider as Royal slowly straightened up. “You’re just the kind of lad I’ve been looking for. I can teach you everything you need to know, pay you well, and you can help me bring happiness to them all.”  
  
The taller man was hesitating again, shaking. Anxiety, perhaps, or adrenaline. Queen still placed his hands around the plush bear, locking his fingers over Royal’s to try and calm him down. “You have nothing to fear.” He turned the bear just enough so the eyes were directed at his companion. “You said you never came here. It is a crime to deny that of a child. Allow me, now, to make it up to you.” His hands were removed when he felt Royal trying to draw the toy close to is chest.  
  
“You’d trust me? Just like that?”  
  
“Of course! After all, Mister Royal, that is what friends do.”  
  
Queen wasn’t surprised by the reaction he received to ‘friends’. Confusion, uncertainty, shock, but he offered his hand again all the same. Royal wasn’t looking at it at first, instead focusing on this strange man’s ever-pleasant expression and then the bear. Digesting the offer, the _concept_ of having a friend…  
  
“I accept.” He took the older man’s hand and the deal was sealed with the firm shake. “When do I start?”


End file.
